


A Strange Haunting

by divianamalfoy (Diviana)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masterbation, Out of Character, Possession, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 15:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14240211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diviana/pseuds/divianamalfoy
Summary: Harry is being haunted by a ghost with a very perverse habit of forcing Harry to have some very interesting male-related nightmares or fantasies, depending if you asked the inflictor or dreamer, that leads Harry into a situation... that leads to Harry having  awkward conversations with Gryffindors.





	A Strange Haunting

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fanfic of mine migrated from my [LJ.](https://divianamalfoy.livejournal.com/702.html)

Harry had a very large problem, one he couldn’t speak of to his best mates. Actually, he wouldn’t be willing to tell anyone his problem, even if they crucio’d him he could handle that, and if they forced truth serum down this throat he would bite off his tongue. He’d rather let the world end than tell a soul.

He was being haunted by a particularly prat-like and pervert ghost named Damien. If being haunted wasn’t bad enough he was a gay, which wasn’t so bothersome in on itself, and shared his fantasy via Harry’s dreams. That wasn’t the end of the Damien’s perversion, he liked to cast Harry as he main character because “I died a twenty-two year old virgin, my dear innocent Harry, it would be very wrong to imagine myself doing those things. And you have a much better body than the one I had when living.”

So for the last two weeks he’d done everything he could to sleep at the very last moment to avoid nightmares of him shacking up with some bloke like now he was in the Common Room writing a Transfiguration essay due in three days. Harry shuddered as he dipped his quill in emerald ink, the last dream he had was with him as the bottom. He scribbled out in precise, clearly cursive a phrase. He wrote much more carefully in cursive as one mistake would ruin the tedious effort of writing in such a proper way which caused his writing to end up much less clustered and illegible. It had been a shock to some of his teachers when his writing he cleared up that at first that they had assumed he’d either cast a writing charm on himself, used a spelled cursive quill, or had someone else write his work out for him. They didn’t need to know that it was because how writing in such a way utterly, completely consumed time.

Harry wrote out another line as the alarm charm he set went off at 12AM. He’d learnt that if he slept much later than that he had not much energy in the day. He placed everything lightly into his bag as he sent a silent prayer to whatever existing deity or spirit out there that one perverted, willowy ghost would be, by some miracle, sombre in the camp. 

Under the covers and into the slumber, he almost thought his prayer had been answered... _almost._ Damien popped his messy crown into Harry’s closing eyes with a smirk; _oh I’ve got surprise for you._

_Fingers grasped his skin moving in that circular motions that made Harry groan. He opened his eyes to see a mass of messy black curls entangled in his nails._

_“Harry,” the boy murmured, panting as he crawled up Harry’s torso with dotted kisses._

_“Dean,” Harry replied as his breath was stolen by a kiss. It was messy and sloppily done with tongues mimicking the movements of their grinding hips. Dean brushed against Harry’s head on one of those thrusts all hard and leaking. The back of Harry’s throat dried causing him to lick his lips at the thought of what would cool the dryness. He slithered down Dean’s lightly toned body from years of football, as Dean boasted, towards the nest of pubic and the source of his refreshment._

Harry woke with a shock and the feel of a phantom pressure in the back of his throat. He seriously had to kill that ghost using the image of his roommate and friend was just arsed up. He casted a quick Tempus to see that it was five thirty, which was roughly the time he awoke nowadays.

He slipped out of bed none the eager to subconsciously fall back to sleep. He grabbed a random mass of cloth only checking if they were pants, trousers, socks, robes, and a shirt. He shrunk Dudley’s old cavern of a t-shirt into a reasonable seize before grabbing a towel. He made his way to the Prefect’s bathroom under his Invisibility Cloak which was probably one of the only perks of such early mornings. He had never been caught with use of his handy dandy cloak.

The bathroom was extremely lavish with it’s multiple cubicles and tubs. Harry picked one near the door yet out sight enough that no one would see him when they opened the door. He started the bath adding emerald green, silvery grey bubbles he loved that had scents of earthy nature and happiness.

He fell into the warm soapy waters with little care. Every muscle in his body tensed slightly at the change of temperature before adjusting and relaxing. Harry let out a small sigh as he felt the familiar shimmer of air that signalled Damien’s appearance.

“ Ye-” Harry started to be cut off by Damien’s exaggerated hushing movements. _Someone is coming hide,_ Damien mouthed and tossed Harry his wand. Then, he grabbed Harry’s clothes and left with a pop. Harry did the first thing he thought of casted an air bubble spell and drove into the bubbles and hid at the deep end of the two and half metre pool-like tub.

Garbled sounds filtered to Harry from above and Harry tensed as feet dipped into the water with another. A body deceased into the shallow depths of the tub, a male body. Harry tried to turn to block the sight from his eyes, but there was no more room to moves as he was pressed against the very depths and edges of water. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw a hand grasp a hard, light-coloured cock been pale legs. Harry opened his eyes at random intervals to see if the coast was clear which meant looking directly at the wanking boy.

First time he opened his eyes this was a hand touching bollocks. Second, there was a thrust into the slender hand. Third, nails pressed against the slit of the head. Fourth and lastly, there was a jerk of the hips and cloud of white. The body left the waters soon after and Harry had to wait in the sperm filled bathtub for a reasonable amount of time before attempting to left himself.

“Quite a peek show wasn’t that?” Damien drawled in his accented bass.

“Just give me my glasses and clothes,” Harry wanted to get that blurry imagine out of his mind and that liquid that invaded the waters off his skin.

“Say please,” Damien mockingly lectured.

“Bloody **please** you mad pervert!” Harry held out a hand.

The smirk grew more pronounced as Damien handed the clothes back.

“You know,” the transparent man paused, “I saw the person who gave you that show. I’m going to have a lot of fun with this.”

“ Bollocks,” Harry swore pitying himself and the poor bloke that would be the centre of Harry’s nightmares from now on.

“What?” Harry eyed warily, slipping the cloak over his shoulders to leave.

Damien’s eyes gain a twinkle, “There are about a hundred blond boys in Hogwarts... of which fifth-years, sixth-years, and seventh-years are the only ones with enough bollocks or connections to sneak into the Prefects bathrooms. That narrows the possibility to about fifty-odd blokes can be your mystery boy, which means fifty blokes to bother you with.”

Harry would have sworn if not for Filch’s cat passing right around the corner.

_“Damn!”_ Harry swore in hissing Parseltongue. Seamus _is blond!!_ The cat froze hackles raised and bolted down the corner in seconds. Harry vaguely remembered the pest having a snake phobia ever since second-year. At the moment he couldn’t muster up enough pity in the creature as he rushed back into Gryffindor showers to shower-twice- and make it to breakfast.

He walked, trudged, into the Great Hall wincing whenever he saw an extremely fair-headed male.

“What’s wrong mate?” Ron asked around two pieces of toast.

“Nothing,” Harry shrugged.

Hermione harrumphed and remarked, “Harry, you’re jitterier than Jargon the Jittery, who got a heart attack from a shadow of his guard.”

“Didn’t sleep well,” Harry answered in a roundabout way.

“Oh,” Ron sighed, “nightmares?”

“Not that kind replied Harry with a frown, “just the average variety which means with me they’re pretty unusual.”

“What did you dream of ‘Arry?” Seamus inquired in his Irish lilt, “McGonagall in a nightgown?”

Harry looked at Seamus eyes wide at that suggestion and quickly averted them in case Damien was up to his usual antics. Tucking into his meal, he tried his best to avoid gazing at any blond blokes or any of the blokes that had been featured in his nightmares.

“ Something worst,” Harry quickly thought up a lie, “Malfoy and Parksion in the act.” 

“Urgh,” Ron blanched, “I would have puked.”

“Mhm,” Harry made a sound of agreement.

In moments, breakfast was over and it was time for first period. Double Potions the class Harry had and dreaded

every Monday morning. On the way there he catalogued seven more blonds: Ernie MacMillan, Theodore Nott, Derrick, Montague, Zacharias Smith, and Euan Abercrombie. He saw the seventh one in Potions class was Draco Malfoy.

_Just my luck most of the blonds are in Slytherin,_ Harry mentally groaned working diligently on his potion to keep from staring at guys who had appeared in his nightmares.

That night after working on a Potions’ essay due next week, false six divination dreams, practicing a Transfiguration spell sixty-two times, and sneaking into the kitchens for a snack, he’d given up fighting sleep and when to bed.

_His brown eyes glittered like vats of polished chocolate as they looked imploringly upward at Harry. Zacharias had his head rest on Harry’s chest and his navy pants clad body in-between his legs. Harry ran his fingers between Zacharias’ flat golden locks and using his other hand to pull him up into a kiss._

_Without too much thought Harry felt one of his hands dislodge from the Hufflepuff’s neck and flay flat against his arse. Then, his fingers, suddenly lubed up, moved to pucked hole and nudged their way in. Zacharias moaned deeply into Harry’s mouth and press back into his fingers need._

Harry woke sweaty and sticky between the legs. Casting the cleaning spell he’d mastered in the last few weeks, he got his clothes to shower in the Gryffindor bathroom. His meeting in the Prefect’s room had scared him off that place for awhile, at least.

At breakfast, he avoided looking at the Hufflepuff table on the off chance he would spot Smith and remember that slick cock that rubbed against Harry’s abs in the middle of their dream sex. 

“Hey, Harry who do you think will win? Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff?” Dean asked, “I’ve got my bet on Ravenclaw. Brilliant strategists, they are.”

“Don’t know about that, Dean,” Ginny added her two-bits, “Smith’s been getting pretty decent and sneakier with

his tricks.”

“So you’re money is on Hufflepuff?” Seamus pulled out a quill to take bets without any girls looking, of course. Many of the girls thought betting on such things were vulgar or drab. Ginny was the only constant female better since she was like one of the boys.

“Sorry, no knuts this week,” she shrugged her petite shoulders. 

Harry looked other towards the Ravenclaw table and suppressed a wince at the sight of a dirty blond mop of hair near Boot.

“Eagles. Six sickles,” answered Harry.

Charms class resulted in Harry inflating Neville like a balloon when he saw Smith in a navy shirt that exact shade as the pants in his nightmares.

“Sorry, Neville!” Harry apologised for the seventh time as they made their way to Transfiguration class.

“It’s fine, Harry. I make mistakes like that all the time,” said Neville, good-natured.

Harry gave a twist of a smile before dropping his eyes to the ground. Justin Flinch-Fletchley had walked pass and brought up a memory of being pressed up against the wall in a bout of hot, randy sex as well as at the blond hair on Neville reminded Harry of the blonds who would appear in his dreams.

Neville noticed how Harry moved his eyes from the faces of Seamus, Dean, and himself. He begun to worry as did all the other Gryffindor boys who noticed Harry never looked them straight in the face.

In each class, Harry winced and froze as another memory-dream- flashed through his head. Many of the girls, especially Hermione, worried about Harry even though he spoke to them quite normally. Days passed and more and more Gryffindors noticed Harry’s sudden phobia of the male gender which meant every night he had more and more wet dreams.

 _Seamus’ sandy hair messy as Harry pinned him against his bed. He had the fellow tied to the poster bed as their roommates slept around them. He gagged Seamus with his tie and proceeded to ravish Seamus from head to toe before teasing himself ready to ride Seamus..._

_Hidden under a Potions’ table sucking at Nott’ through his robes without the teacher being any wiser. Then, as classed ended Harry attacked the Slytherin using some random potion in the place of lube..._

_Ernie whimpering as Harry fucked him in the locker rooms, still mostly dressed in his gear. At some point he had said in a tantalising, “I’ve caught a better Snitch this time.” Afterward, they showered and fucked again with Ernie as top under the spray of hot water..._

_Euan, the sweet boy, sucked Harry like a lollipop under the Gryffindor table at breakfast. At lunch Harry repaid the favour in full as they stayed in the Gryffindor dorms and he ate Euan for his meal, covering the boy in bite marks..._

_He dominated Neville who blushed at Harry’s sexual questions. “Do you like this Neville?” He would move to graze his ear or suck on some odd body part. “What do you want me to do?” Harry would pull away from the chubbier boy and keep that distance until Neville gave him an order or a request like kiss me in that stutter shy tone of Neville’s. He would exactly as Neville asked until he grew quite turned on. “Want to top or bottom?” was the question that made Neville flush a lovely pink colour. Both he would stutter and blush an even deeper red as Harry translated that to piercing himself on Neville’s cock and fucking himself on it from the top._

_Montague liked whip cream and chocolate lapping at any place Harry had placed it on himself. They both had their sex drives and sweet teeth satisfied, killing two birds with one stone._

_Harry tickled Derrick’s sense of pride by allowing himself to be hidden in the Slytherin dorms. nude as Derrick was fully dressed on the side of the curtain. Smirking at Derrick’s obvious attempts to rid his dorm of its other occupants, Harry mewed in the girl-est fashion he could. The other Slytherin blokes left quickly after that and Harry got his fun. He made Derrick wait as he played with himself languidly before the impatient, butch male did Harry under the moon._

The seventh nightmare was a threesome with a Ravenclaw and Slytherin that involved belts, ties, school uniforms, and made it so Harry could never think of the words House Unity in the same way ever again. 

Harry was beginning to wonder if he could perform an exorcism, screw respecting the dead if they didn’t respect you. Harry had a lot of things he couldn’t see or do without cringing anymore which included Seamus putting on his tie in the mornings, asking Neville a question, eating or watching anyone eat any chocolate/whip cream based products, or strange enough hearing the word a snake hiss - Slytherins in his dreams had a Parselmouth kink.

Harry didn’t realise he was being quite obvious in his unease because this morning at breakfast Nearly Headless Nick floated up to him. Harry flinched when the cold hand touched his shoulder because it reminded him of Damien.

“Harry,” asked Nick in a terribly somber tone, “do the ghost do anything to offend? Or the good-old boys in Gryf findor?”

“What? No... they didn’t do anything neither did you - why do you ask?” asked Harry.

“Mate,” Ron tapped Harry’s shoulder causing him to stiffen, “you haven’t looked any of us straight in the eye for a week.”

“Yea,” Dean jumped in, “Neville’s been going off the deep end because looked annoyed when he asks you questions.”

_“What?”_ repeated Harry again. The world was serious coming to an end if Ron noticed Harry’s strangeness. 

“You always look like you want to talk to someone else,” some random fifth-year commented, “a girl or first-year.”

“Uncomfortable,” Seamus snapped his fingers, “you looked uncomfortable whenever you talk to us. Blimey if it weren’t for the fact you talked to the first to fourth-years I would’ve thought you were …”

“Androphobic,” Hermione finished Seamus’ sentence.

“Um...” Harry felt guilty about making his friends worry, but he wasn’t about to tell them his problems.

“Yes?” Seamus leaned closer from across the table and Harry bit his lip. Flashes of Seamus leaning over to kiss Harry caused him to avert his eyes.

“SEE!” Seamus pointed his finger at Harry, “you won’t look us in the eye.”

Harry looked up only to look back down... Dream Seamus had done some very interesting things with his finger before Harry tied him up.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Hermione peered at Harryy’s blushing face from an angle, “are you um... gay?”

Harry felt a jolt of electricity and firmly stated “No.”

Hermione had struck too closely for Harry’s liking.

“Bloody hell. Why would you think that ‘Mione?!” Ron shouted.

“Well.. he looks away whenever he sees guys and blushes,” Hermione shrugs.

“Holy Merlin, are you gay?” Ron exclaimed.

“No,” Harry groaned, “I’m straight.”

“Are you sure?” Neville asked. “If you are it’s okay. I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Me neither. My uncle Bilius the Third was,” Ron nodded his head vehemently. 

“I. Am. Not. Gay.” Harry growled. _I am a straight person being plagued with gay dreams by a ghost who wants to be killed._

Dean looked at Harry for a moment and sighed, “You know Harry even if were gay none of us would care. We’ll beat up any prat who does.” 

Harry dropped his hand unceremoniously into his plate, “I am not gay.”

“But Harry you never hit on any girls,” Lavender Brown complained.

“Or look remotely interested when we have you know what,” Seamus supported Brown’s words.

“Or in tits,” Seamus spoke again.

“I’m more of an arse person,” objected Harry.

“Then, whose got the best bum?” Hermione asked.

Harry thought about it for a second, “Daphne Greengrass. Best of all the girls.”

“For blokes?” Hermione inclined her head.

“Why in the world would I know which guy has the best arse?!” Harry growled.

“Well which one,” Ginny leaned in deeper, “I like Smith’s even if he’s a huge prat, then yours.”

Harry spat, “I don’t look at guys bums so lay off.”

Those words brought up images of over twenty arses that Harry had seen in his dreams.

“Well if you did whose would be the best?” Hermione asked again.

Irritated and annoyed, Harry answered with the first name that came in his head, “Malfoy.”

“WHAT?!” every male within earshot shouted in sync while the girls agreed _yes he has a nice bum._

Harry surprised himself hadn’t he dreamt of Malfoy yet so why was he so sure his statement was right. Something in his head clicked Malfoy is blond, has access to the Prefects bathrooms, is extremely pale, has very slender hands - if the word of half the female Gryffindor was to be believed - and most importantly he hadn’t dreamt of him yet. He was the wanking boy from the Prefects’ bathroom! Harry knew it because if he were Damien he would have used Malfoy first to bother the bleeding hell out Harry.

“Holy Merlin,” Harry whispered.

“What? Did you realise you were gay, Harry?” asked Neville curiously.

“No,” Harry whirled the information in his head around.

“Well... Malfoy isn’t a bad choice if you were,” Dean shrugged,“caught him snogging Flint some time in third-year.”

“What?” exclaimed Ron. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well...,” Dean blushed. “I was sort of figuring it out myself and if it were me I wouldn’t want someone to... you know.”

“Tell everyone you were a poof?” Seamus said helpfully.

“Yea, I’m a ponce everyone,” stated Dean, who then looked over towards Harry. “I heard you say names in your sleep. I thought I was imagining things a few times or that it wasn’t anything weird you said guys’ names in your sleep. You use to say Draco a lot, but a few weeks ago you said well every bloke under the moon.”

“Draco?” asked Harry dumbly. There was no good reason he would have said Draco for especially since Damien hadn’t ever shown him any Dream Draco images.

“Yea...” Dean blushed. “You said my name once as well.”

“Don’t you remember, Harry?” Hermione inquired.

“No,” Harry finished the sentence in his head _. No, I don’t remember dreaming of Malfoy_

. 

“So...” Ron stated bluntly, “Harry’s a poof that doesn’t know he’s a poof?”

“I’m not a poof,” Harry stated for the nth time, no one really believed him. Thankfully it was time for class even if it was Double Potions.

In class, he chose an empty seat away from the rest of the Gryffindors, so he wouldn’t have to hear them question his sexual orientation.

“Potter, are you sure you’re in the right seat?” asked Professor Snape sharply. Harry was seating more in Slytherin territory than Gryffindor.

“Yes, sir,” answered Harry politely. The teacher looked at Harry strangely as the other students filed in.

“Potter, wish you were a Slytherin now don’t know?” Malfoy sneered as he sat down next to Harry. There were no more seats in the class and Malfoy had almost been tardy.

“No, I wish Gryffindors weren’t so nosy,” groaned Harry. Malfoy looked shocked like it was impossible for the Golden Trio to have problems. Harry held a gasp as he recognised the proper hands of Malfoy’s.

_Oh Circe and Merlin Malfoy really was the wanker in the Prefects’ room,_ Harry cursed his luck. Harry avoided Malfoy’s gaze and the entire time they worked on their potion.

_Now that I know it’s Malfoy I wonder if Damien will stop... or will I have to go through with the exorcism..._ Harry was jerked out of his thoughts as Malfoy tapped his shoulder.

“Potter, what in the world is wrong with you?” Malfoy growled, glaring directly into Harry’s eyes.

“What?” asked Harry, confused.

“You almost fell asleep in the Basilisk's venom. Are trying to get yourself killed?” spoke Malfoy harshly. 

Harry sighed and played the thought of killing himself idly through his head if he couldn’t rid himself of his nightly visions.

“Just shut it, Malfoy, I’m not in a good mood,” hissed Harry. Much to Harry’s surprise the prat actually listened for once and he smiled softly, “Thanks.”

“Harry!” a voice cried out, echoing throughout the halls. Harry didn’t reply back, it was his goal to avoid every nosy lion until he figured out what he was going to tell them. The fact they kept questioning his sexuality without much thought worried him and made him consider why. He might be a bit dense, but he was fairly intuitive when someone pointed him in the right direction. So now he was in the Room of Requirement that bathed in soothing, earthy green and fluffy seats.

Well, was he gay... Harry thought to himself carefully. He honestly had no problems with people that played on that side of the field, but was he one of them. From a theoretical point of view if he found the right bloke he could be, but that applied to girls as well. 

_So did that mean he wasn’t attracted to anyone?_ Harry quickly ran individuals through his head Luna, Lavender, Daphne, and Hannah. _He got something on Luna, but it was more of a little sister/good friend emotion. Lavender was like his freaking sister. Daphne was an aristocratic she-prick. Hannah sweet as candy, but too innocent._ Tensing his shoulders tried Blaise, Terry, Zacharias, and Dean. _A prat. Sweet, but too much of a intelligent. Attractive if he kept his mouth shut. Dean was just Dean._

“Bloody hell,” Harry had just proven to himself that yes he could like guys, but he also shown himself that he wasn’t interested in anyone in Hogwarts.

“Does that make me asexual?” Harry thought out aloud. “No.”

He considered it a moment and the idea of being attracted to himself was strange. Maybe he just need to find the right one... maybe he played in both fields... 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._ His curfew alarm went off, it was time to return the dorms unless he wanted his house to lose precious points.

“Swans,” Harry muttered the password some girl thought up.

“Harry! Harry! Harry!” he heard his voice called out by practically every Gryffindor in his year up.

“We’re sorry,” they collectively bowed their heads in shame.

“If you’re not ready to come out of the closet we understand,” said Seamus calmly.

It probably had to do with the fact he was sleep-deprived and not inside the closet to start with Harry shouted, “I’m being haunted by a gay, virgin ghost that takes pleasure in featuring me as the main star of his fantasies and sending those bloody things into my head when I sleep!” 

“Do serious expect us to believe that? What are the chances of that?” asked Euan disbelievingly.

“I’m Harry Potter. What are the chances now?” remarked Harry.

“Pretty high,” answered Neville.

“That just proves our point that you’re gay, Harry,” Hermione smiled thoughtfully. “If it were anyone else being haunted like that they would have gone mad the first day and told a teacher.”

“That’s true,” Ron agreed. “I would’ve broken our dorms trying to exorcise the ponce.”

Several heads nodded along to Ron’s words causing Harry to sigh.

“Fine, I’m bi,” Harry was tired and it seemed the only way to get in his bed was to meet them halfway.

“Can you get the ghost to appear?” Hermione asked curiously.

“DAMIEN, GET YOUR DEAD ARSE DOWN HERE OR I WILL EXORCISE THE AFTERLIFE OUT OF YOU,” Harry shouted. Harry is a grumpy insomniac and he was just beyond caring.

The proper-looking, aristocratic ponce appeared near Harry’s side eliciting some gasps. 

“The bugger looks like Malfoy,” Ron exclaimed. Now that Harry looked at him the ghost held the sort of snobby face Malfoy had.

“I am a Malfoy. Damien Tobias Malfoy to be correct,” Damien spoke clearly.

“Harry are you sure this is the right ghost?” Hermione asked the same time Ron growled, “What is a Malfoy haunting Harry?!’

“Yes, Hermione. He’s a right up randy poof when he wants to be,” Harry glared at the transparent man.

“Yea, why is a Malfoy haunting Harry?” Lavender inclined her head.

“It’s complicated... The universe likes to screw with me...” Damien and Harry answered at the same time.

“Hermione, can you find out how to exorcise a ghost?” Harry said bluntly. “I need my sleep.”

“Sure,” she looked at Damien with an odd shine to her eyes.

“Aw, Harry I’m not that bad am I?” Damien pouted.

“You’re a perverted twenty-two year old nancy of a ghost that using his own descendant as ammunition.”

“Well, when you put it that way it does sound bad...” Damien blinked. “And I would never do such a thing to my own blood and kin... it’s just wrong.”

“And haunting a virgin kid with dirty dreams is?” Harry just stormed up to his room and slept. For once in his life he actually slept well, maybe Hermione already exorcised the arsehole.

In a much better mood that morning he decided to risk the Prefects’ bathroom again. Again filling the bath with his favourite green and grey bubbles he relaxed into the warm waters when a set of steps startled Harry. He casted a quick Notice-Me-Not charm on his clothes and an air bubble spell on himself before driving into the deep end of the bath.

The world was really trying to screw with him. The same pale and toned arse of Malfoy’s from before descended into the pool, tossing himself off. Harry would have closed his eyes, but a mix of his past-tiredness and calmness made him watch with idle interest.

 _I guess I really am gay,_ a part of Harry’s mind told him.

Harry should have felt extremely uncomfortable watching another boy wank when said boy had no idea he was being watched, but all he felt was lazy interest. The way Malfoy wanked was quite different for the way he did. Malfoy did it a slow-pace with plenty of bollocks touching and tracing of veins. Roughly five minutes later by Harry’s count the water filled with spunk and Malfoy left Harry very a curious boy.

As Harry climbed out of the tub, he wondered if Malfoy did that every morning. Harry also wondered why he wasn’t as bothered as he would have been if he saw anyone else toss off. He wondered what Malfoy would do if he knew Harry had watched him twice. He also strangely enough wanted to see how the prat would react if he kissed him.

Yup, the world was screwing with him and he was too tired and worn out to care. Harry might us well start the end of the world himself and get a kick out of it. He might as well end the world with a big bang.

At breakfast that morning Harry casted erratic looks towards the Slytherin table as the morning’s curiosities floated in his head. He was impatient to end the world as he knew it, who knew all it took was one perverted ghost and one night of good rest to make Harry stop caring. Everyone else already thought he was a poof he might as well give up. 

In Potions he ended paired up with Malfoy again. He did all his work carefully trying to figure a way or reason to kiss Malfoy. Kissing Malfoy in Potions was probably a death wish, but his brain was too fizzled out to care.

“What are you doing Potter? If you keep looking at me that way everyone is going to think you’re a poof,” Malfoy jabbed out his usually insult. 

Smirking, Harry replied simply, “Maybe I am.”

“What?” asked Malfoy, his eyes widened in a very adorable way.

“Maybe I am a poof,” shrugged Harry.

Malfoy gave a wary chuck, “I knew it. Always wanted in some goody-Gryffindor’s trousers haven’t you?”

“Nope,” Harry twisted to get a better look at Malfoy. “They’re like my brothers.”

Malfoy swallowed causing his Adam’s apple to bobble up and down.

Some part of Harry’s brain really must have been dead because that movement made Harry wonder what he would look like giving Harry a head. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice Malfoy rambling until he looked back up to Malfoy’s mouth.

“This is why Muggle-blood is bad it makes...” Malfoy kept talking and talking about pure-blood supremacist ideas.

Harry kissed him just to shut him up. Somewhere he heard someone blow up, probably Neville’s potion, but he didn’t care the end of the world tasted pretty sweet.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Malfoy shouted the moment Harry stopped kissing him.

“Snogging you. It’s not like you did anything to stop me,” Harry shrugged. Yup, his brain was Stunned because all he was thinking of was how he liked to make Malfoy react and how he if he copied events from his dreams and used them on Malfoy those reactions would be even sweeter.

“I was too shocked,” protested Malfoy.

Harry shrugged, “Well I’m going to do it again so if you want to hex me, do it now.”

Harry did and Malfoy didn’t hex him. The kiss was calm and consuming as Harry sucked and licked every inch of Malfoy’s mouth. Malfoy kissed back in a nervous, unsupported way that made Harry wonder if Draco had ever kiss someone else his way. Opening his eyes for a second, he saw his crazy ghost and wondered if he should thank him for ending his world.

(Old) A/N: This is my sad attempt at a H/D oneshot that went in a very strange direction. To anyone that actually finished and commented on this thank you <3

I wrote this ages ago and it doesn't represent how I write anymore. 


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